Read Online A Tale of Highly Unusual Magic by Lisa Papademetriou - Free Book Online Page B

her friend Ta’Mara loved. Leila coughed and wondered if there was a fire extinguisher—
    Footsteps slammed toward the kitchen, and Leila thought about running, but Samir appeared before she could take off. “Is the house on fire?” he cried.
    â€œIt’s not the—ugh!” Coughing, Leila fanned the smoke away from her face. “It’s not the house!” She turned on the tap, dousing the pages while Samir slapped on the fan beneath the microwave. Then he cranked open the window.
    A fire alarm started to shriek. It was directly over Leila’s head, and seemed to be screaming inside her skull. “Do something!”
    â€œChup kar!” Samir grabbed a broom and gave the alarm a solid whack, knocking it to the floor, where it died with a squawk. He looked up at Leila. “I did not even know we had that thing.”
    Gingerly, Leila pulled her hands away from her ears.The smoke had finally died down, and Leila turned off the tap. The book lay in the sink, soggy, but otherwise undamaged.
    â€œOh,” Leila whispered. She picked up the book.
    It hadn’t burned. She opened it. The ink hadn’t run under the water.
    In fact, there was a new sentence: You couldn’t see the damage that the fire had caused, but it was there.
    She slammed it shut.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Samir asked, looking at the wet book. Then he looked at Leila’s face. “Are you all right? You look—”
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Babar Taya burst into the kitchen, followed by his wife and a very irritated-looking Rabeea. Everyone was in their pajamas, but Jamila Tai had pulled a jacket on over her sleepwear. “Is everyone all right?”
    Wali pranced in shouting, “What was that? Kya ho raha hai? What is the smell?”
    A drop of water dripped from the book onto Leila’s little toe.
    â€œLeila just burned some toast,” Samir explained. “Did you know that we had a—” He gestured to the smokedetector. “Did you know that it works?”
    â€œIt doesn’t look like it works anymore,” Rabeea said, eyeing the smashed pieces on the floor.
    â€œOf course we have a smoke detector,” Jamila Tai put in. “I had Chirragh install it.”
    â€œWhy?” Rabeea asked. “The house is concrete.”
    â€œBecause your father and I lived in Connecticut for two years, and everyone in the United States has a fire alarm,” Jamila Tai replied. “They’re positively pathological about reminding you to check the batteries—I never broke the habit. Leila, if you would like some toast, I’d be happy to make you some.”
    Leila glanced at Samir. His permanently cocked eyebrow lifted slightly, and he nodded.
    â€œYes,” she said slowly, sinking into a chair. “Thank you so much.”
    â€œI’m going back to bed,” Rabeea announced. Nobody tried to stop her.
    Wali climbed into the chair beside hers. “Halvah poori!” As usual, everyone ignored him as they bustled around. Babar Taya began measuring coffee and Jamila Tai asked if anyone else was in the mood for roti. Thenshe shouted for Chirragh, who limped in wearing his signature glare.
    Silently, Samir placed a glass of orange juice in front of Leila. She looked up at him, and he smiled gently. The damp book sat in her lap, and Samir glanced down at it. He didn’t mention it.
    You couldn’t see the damage that the fire had caused, but it was there.
    The sentence was burned into Leila’s mind. She tightened her grip on the book.
    It had only just dawned on her to wonder what the book might want from her.
    After lunch, Jamila Tai had asked Leila if she wanted to buy any trinkets—that’s how she put it, “trinkets”—for friends or family while she was visiting Pakistan. Nadia had asked for purple khusas , size 5, and Leila wanted some bangles for Ta’Mara, so she said yes. Rabeea announced that she